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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #67457 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67457)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Death in Transit, by Jerry Sohl
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Death in Transit
-
-Author: Jerry Sohl
-
-Release Date: February 21, 2022 [eBook #67457]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed
-             Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH IN TRANSIT ***
-
-
-
-
-
-                           Death in Transit
-
-                             By JERRY SOHL
-
-                          Illustrated by EMSH
-
-                  _There was one, and only one, thing
-                  Clifton could do. Even so, he made
-                  the worst of 100 possible choices!_
-
-           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
-                 Infinity Science Fiction, June 1956.
-         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
-         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-Clifton stood at the bottom of the shaft, his face white, his eyes
-wide, his stance against the bulkhead that of a man who needed only a
-slight push to slump to the floor.
-
-"Karen," he murmured. "Karen."
-
-He had been standing there a long time.
-
-He was staring at his dead wife, a heap of broken bones and blood on
-the floor. But he was not seeing her--at least not as she was now. He
-was seeing her the way his mind kept bringing her back to him: the
-white evenness of her teeth when she smiled, the fury of her bright
-blue eyes when she was angry, the way she had uncomplainingly slept on
-the wrinkled sheets of the bed he had made when she had been ill ten
-years before, and the way they had laughed about that when she reminded
-him of it years later. He moved to stand erect, wondering why he should
-have thought about that at a time like this, and then, as he looked at
-her again and saw what the fall had done to her, he clenched his hands
-in anger.
-
-They had said it couldn't happen! But they had been wrong. Man's wisdom
-was not infinite after all. All the man-years of thought, all the
-endless whirring and clicking of the computers and calculators--all of
-it had not taken into account what might happen to Karen.
-
-His hands fell open. He knew that actually, they had never been wrong.
-If he had found her right away, he could have put her back together.
-He could have utilized the synthesizer for anything really bad, like a
-shattered bone. The needles of the organic analyzer would have told him
-what else he had to do.
-
-But Karen had been dead for hours when he found her. Too long. The
-damage was irreparable, permanent. She was beyond recall. He might
-conceivably have animated her muscles, her glands, got her blood to
-flowing again. But her brain would have remained a vacuous, inert
-thing. You had to get reconstruction going in a matter of minutes when
-the brain, the anatomy's most perishable component, was involved. And
-in some cases he had known, the memories were never fully restored.
-
-Why couldn't it have been a tumor? A deficiency disease? A nervous
-breakdown? Insanity.... There was nothing the medocenter couldn't
-handle. Its machines were right there on the ship, ready to be
-used--but Karen had to fall down the ventilator shaft, opening the door
-and walking into it as if it were her bedroom, and falling all the way
-down and breaking half the bones in her body.
-
-And he had found her too late. Hours too late.
-
-"Too late," he said, and he nodded his head in agreement. And then he
-was engulfed in sudden pity and remorse and a feeling of loss, as if
-she had snatched a vital part of him in her going. And hadn't she?
-Hadn't she taken her laughter with her, the laughter that brightened
-his days? And the things they had shared.
-
-He glared at her, suddenly angry that she should have done this to
-him, and he glared at the shaft and blew out his cheeks and clenched
-his hands again and roared a great cry that echoed deafeningly in the
-smallness of the shaft.
-
-And then he shouted obscenities at the ship and the stars and the
-hundred people who lay as if dead in neat rows in the sleep locker and
-he pounded the walls until blood from his hands left imprints there.
-
-But no one heard. There was no one to hear. Only the sleepers who
-lived their days with his years.
-
-"Why?" he shouted, while his tears fell. And he thought: I haven't
-cried since I was a kid. Then, saying her name again and again, he
-knelt by her side to feel the silkiness of her jet black hair.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-There had been no death aboard a Star Transit ship since the very
-beginning. From the first day of the Great Emigration more than a
-hundred years before, when the first captain and his wife stepped
-aboard to pilot the precious cargo of sleeping humans ten or more years
-across the vast stellar reaches to colonies on planets in a half dozen
-far-distant star systems, there had been no recorded death.
-
-But now there would always be Karen.
-
-He should have told them she walked in her sleep. But the Medical
-Examiners would have shrugged as they had with everything else he had
-told them. The medocenters would take care of it. You couldn't _cure_
-sleepwalking with the devices in the medocenter, but they would have
-taken care of anything that happened as a result--if he had reached
-her in time. It was unforeseen, this business of her walking into the
-shaft. No one was to blame. No one, that is, except himself.
-
-Clifton looked up from beside his wife to the circle of light at the
-top of the shaft. "All right," he called out, "I'm to blame, do you
-hear? I did it. She could be alive except for me."
-
-There was no answer to his self-indictment.
-
-"And where does it leave me?" he shouted bitterly. "I'm the one who has
-to live and I've got nine years to go. Nine years to Ostarpa and the
-small colony there. What am I supposed to do?"
-
-He never remembered later how long he stood in the shaft shouting
-until he was hoarse, only recalling that at one point the walls seemed
-to close in on him and the ship seemed filled with an oppressive
-strangeness, and he was clawing his way up the ladder to the top. And
-there were blurred images of walls and rooms as he ran about the ship,
-and he remembered his jerking open the liquor cabinet and the stupor
-that followed.
-
-It was days later when he sobered and, insulated by the intervening
-unreality, managed to dispose of her body in a waste chute.
-
-Then he moved to the office and saw that it was the 371st day and
-looked at the log to see that he had stopped making entries on the
-363rd day. He examined the other books. Karen's precise handwriting had
-recorded her final readings on that day, too. Now he would have to do
-her work as well as his own.
-
-Clifton sighed, sat at his desk and, in a steady hand, wrote in the log:
-
-    _Karen rose in her sleep, walked to and fell down the right aft
-    third level ventilating shaft and was killed. Reached her
-    approximately three hours after the incident. She could not be
-    saved._
-
-                                                _Clifton West, Captain_
-
-Skipping to the 371st day, he wrote:
-
-    _Sent Karen's body out the ventral waste chute._
-
-He sat studying the words, then added:
-
-    _Am alone on the ship._
-
-Instantly he wished he had not written that, but was not moved to cross
-the words out. It was true enough. He was alone. Would be alone nine
-more years.
-
-Suppose something should happen to him? Who would land the ship? And
-what would happen to the sleepers?
-
-He did not want to think about it. The medocenter would take care
-of everything. He didn't walk in his sleep. His duty was to get the
-hundred humans through to Ostarpa and then they all would become part
-of the colony there, except of course he'd be ten years older than the
-sleepers upon awakening. He looked at the day gauge on the wall. Just
-3,332 days short of Ostarpa.
-
-Three thousand three hundred and thirty-two days without Karen! An
-eternity of talking to himself and listening only to the sound of his
-own feet as he walked about the ship. A lifetime for remembrance, just
-as he remembered now how eager they both had been to make the trip,
-how she had shared the rigorous training. It had been a chance of a
-lifetime: ten years of being together! Time to meditate, to ponder the
-problems of life, of all humanity, of each other. They had thought
-soberly of it as an opportunity to make something of themselves--write
-a great play, solve a great problem. But they had never got around to
-that. The first year had been only the sheer delight of each other's
-company. He wondered if it would have ever changed. How fast it had
-gone!
-
-And now it was over and the nine years ahead loomed like a dark tunnel,
-large and forbidding.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Clifton slammed the palms of his hands on the desk. Enough of that. He
-was captain of the ship and he had duties. He could not spend his time
-in the past. There were things to do. He must keep himself occupied. He
-must not think of her.
-
-But he did.
-
-Even though the days stretched into weeks he still found his steps
-faltering every time he walked past rooms where he had often looked for
-her. For one thing there was the stereo room where Karen loved to spend
-leisure hours. He never saw much in stereo, but she seemed to enjoy it.
-And there was the music taperoom, the massage parlor, the baths. She
-seemed to have a need of them. But all Clifton had ever needed was her.
-
-He passed the jammed clothes locker, filled with enough apparel to last
-her ten years. He could not force himself to open it, though Karen
-seldom had opened it herself. She had made most of her own clothes,
-taking the material out of the huge storage bins.
-
-He found himself one day in her sewing room, a room she had converted
-from a nursery, storing the nursery stuff until such a time as it was
-needed and installing her sewing machine and getting to work. They had
-joked about how, when they landed on Ostarpa, all the clothes in the
-locker would be still intact because she so enjoyed fashioning her own.
-Once he had asked her what was to become of them.
-
-"We'll start a dress shop, darling," Karen had said quickly as if she
-had already thought about it, which is the way she answered everything.
-"The sleeper women will want several changes right away."
-
-"You know," he replied, "I think I'll be your manager, set you up.
-Karen West, Ostarpa's great dress designer. You'll have lots of
-business and we'll make a fortune."
-
-"I'm not that good," she said, but her face glowed with joy.
-
-Even as he stood there he could hear the words as if they were said a
-moment ago and he felt as if he should at any moment hear the click of
-her heels across the floor, and when she'd enter the room, she'd say,
-"Clifton, what in the world are you doing here?"
-
-The Transit Service had been right. No man was an island. A man might
-be for a day, perhaps, or a week or even longer. But not for ten
-years. That's why the service had insisted a man and his wife, proven
-psychologically compatible, serve together as co-captains of each
-transit liner.
-
-So it wasn't right that he should spend the next nine years a lonely
-man. Karen was gone, but what about those hundred people in the sleep
-locker? He needed someone, a companion, someone to talk to, someone to
-take Karen's place. Not a woman, of course. That would not be right.
-Especially after Karen. There could be no other woman like Karen.
-Besides, suppose they didn't like each other?
-
-"No," he said, standing in the sewing room and shaking his head, "it
-must not be a woman."
-
-And then he brought himself back to reality. No sleeper had ever been
-awakened before the liner reached its destination. "And no sleeper is
-going to be awakened on this trip," he said firmly. He had the power
-to wake any or all of them in an emergency, but his own personal
-emergency hardly constituted grounds for that.
-
-But suppose something happens to me? he reminded himself again. Who's
-going to carry on?
-
-And then he set his lips close together, turned on his heel and left
-the sewing room. "Nothing," he said aloud, "is going to happen to you.
-That's why they put medocenters on these ships." And he went to the
-place and spent the afternoon being checked over.
-
-He found himself in perfect health. For some reason he was disappointed.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-The weeks passed slowly, but they did pass, and Clifton busied himself
-with exhaustive checks throughout the entire ship, interested himself
-in the stereos (they weren't so bad now that he had nothing else to
-do), music tapes (he weeded out the ones he didn't like), massages
-(he was pleased to discover they left him with a glow), books (funny
-how hard it was to read after the ease of stereo), mathematics (how
-much he'd forgotten), a few languages (German was still his hardest),
-moods of writing (he just did not have the knack), painting (he was
-always drawing machinery and wondering why)--and found the image of
-Karen's laughing blue eyes still there at the edge of his mind, though
-curiously distant, as if it were one of the stereos he had seen.
-
-Then the hunger started.
-
-He sat for long hours in the chill of the sleep locker and envied
-the sleepers there, row on row, all of them without a worry, without
-thought, trustful of him, confident he would get them through, none of
-them knowing Karen was dead and not caring, and he had an urge to wake
-them all and throw a furious party to end all parties.
-
-And sometimes he'd have a party there all by himself.
-
-And then he grew to hate them. When he did, he went to the medocenter
-and this was erased and he was made whole again.
-
-But the hunger got worse.
-
-"Karen, Karen!" And he finally wondered if it was really Karen he
-wanted. And the medocenter only made his hunger worse and he cursed the
-efficiency of it.
-
-Then one day he got out the file of the sleepers, went through it from
-Abelard, Johannes, to Yardley, Greta, and put the pictures in the
-stereo and saw what the sleepers looked like and wondered which of
-them would prove the most companionable. Which man, that is, for a
-woman ... well, it just would not be right to awaken a woman. It would
-not look right in the log, for one thing, and he was sure all he needed
-was another person to talk to and it might as well be a man. After all,
-man is a gregarious animal. If he had someone to talk to....
-
-He turned back through the file for Hedstrom, George, a pleasant
-looking fellow of thirty--which would make him five years Clifton's
-junior--and in passing he came upon the picture of Portia Lavester
-again. He slipped the picture in the stereo and spent a long time
-looking at it. Quite a girl. Blonde. Unlike Karen in that respect. And
-she wore her hair longer. Her eyes weren't as blue as Karen's. But her
-skin was darker. Sun? Karen didn't like the sun. It made her freckled.
-But this girl must have lived in it. The stereo was inadequate,
-however. It didn't tell how she laughed. _Did_ she laugh? Was it
-pleasing?
-
-He put it down and looked at the record. Portia Lavester. Twenty years
-old. Five-feet-three. Weight 109. He looked at the picture again. The
-weight was well distributed.
-
-He shuffled the picture back in the pile, tried to concentrate on
-Hedstrom, George. A logical choice among the single men. Mechanical
-background. He peeked at the Lavester record again. The girl was a home
-economics expert. She'd do well on Ostarpa. Or on the ship.
-
-Clifton sighed and shoved the file away. Only then did he realize how
-much he had missed Karen's cooking. The ship's electronic cookery was
-all right, but it left much to be desired. It had no personal touch.
-
-But to get back to Hedstrom. How would the fellow act if he awakened
-him? Immediately he thought of the girl and wondered what she would be
-like.
-
-"Stop it!" he admonished himself. "She's much too young." And he
-started going through looking at the other single women. The girl
-Lavester was clearly the nicest. Again he studied her.
-
-And again he forced himself to go back to the man.
-
-Finally he decided to do nothing at present, left the office and
-started his rounds, determined to think of other things.
-
-Eventually he found himself in the sleep locker looking for number
-33, Portia Lavester's compartment. He saw it and discovered it was no
-different from number 57, the compartment of George Hedstrom. The same
-black oblong box with the ribbon of red plastic where it was sealed
-near the top. It would be easy to activate the rollers, move it out
-of line and out to the medocenter, rip off the plastic and charge the
-contents with life. He wiped away a few dust motes and found that to
-him the box suddenly seemed different from the others.
-
-He was sweating.
-
-Later in the tape room he listened to music and pondered the question.
-Suppose he awakened her and she proved to be anything but what he
-wanted? Sure, she was good looking, but what about her age? Her
-mannerisms? Would his fifteen years turn her against him? There were
-nine years left to Ostarpa; a lot could happen in nine years and she
-would eventually discover he was no ogre. She might even learn to love
-him. Why, she might even take Karen's place!
-
-He clicked off the music with a trembling hand, went to the bar, drew
-a double shot and ice.
-
-Karen, Karen! Why did it have to happen to you?
-
-_Forgive me, darling, for what I am about to do._
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-Clifton watched the lard-like flesh become suffused with pink, saw the
-surge of color in the lips, the catch of breath and the resultant swell
-of breast. Then the eyelids flickered.
-
-A moment later Portia Lavester was staring at him, and even as she did
-so Clifton could see she did not understand what had happened. But when
-the vacant eyes came alive, the girl sat up, crossed her hands to her
-bare, hunched shoulders and looked around frantically.
-
-"Don't be frightened," Clifton said, smiling. "You're still on the
-ship. You've just been awakened."
-
-"Thanks," she said without gratitude, "but I wasn't frightened. I was
-looking for something to put on."
-
-"Oh." Clifton had forgotten about that. Now he blushed and opened a
-nearby drawer and withdrew a white gown. "Take this. It will have to do
-until I get you something else."
-
-She took it and held it to her nakedness, eying him coldly. He turned,
-heard her drop quietly to the floor. "Where are the others?" she asked,
-and he could hear the rustle of the gown as she put it around her. "And
-where can I pick up my clothes?"
-
-He turned to look at her, found her at the side of the room in front of
-its only mirror, inspecting her face and pushing her lush hair this way
-and that and grimacing. "How long ago did we land? What's Ostarpa like?"
-
-She was lovely and not unlike Karen in manner and it was going to be
-harder for him than he thought.
-
-"Was I the first or the last? Or was I in the middle? Just like me to
-be in the middle." She laughed a little and he was glad to hear her,
-though her laughter was a little lower in pitch than Karen's. And then
-her eyes found his in the mirror and they widened. She turned. "Why
-don't you say something? Is anything wrong?" Now she was frightened.
-
-She was very young and he was glad to hear her voice and he wanted to
-tell her so, but he knew she wouldn't understand. So he said only, "I
-want to talk to you."
-
-"What's happened?" Her eyes were panicky.
-
-"There are no others," he blurted out.
-
-"No others?" Her voice was shrill.
-
-He shook his head. "I awakened you because my wife died and I needed
-someone." It was blunt, but he wanted to be honest with her. "The
-others are still asleep out there."
-
-She stared with round eyes and a round, open mouth, and her hands fell
-away from her face and were lost when the gown's long sleeves fell over
-them.
-
-"I--I had to hear someone talk again," Clifton said haltingly. "I went
-through the file. I studied all the sleepers. I decided on you. I'm
-sorry if--"
-
-"How long?" she murmured, lips hardly moving.
-
-"Long?" he answered. "What do you mean?" And then he understood. "We're
-a little more than a year from Earth."
-
-Her moan startled and unnerved him. Her eyes closed and she slumped to
-the floor.
-
-When she did not move, he went to her, lifted her head. At once her
-eyelids fluttered and she saw him and then her face darkened and she
-lashed out with tiny fists, scratching and crying.
-
-"It's not as bad as all that!" he cried, half angry with her now,
-trying to stop her, clutching her flailing arms. He drew away quickly
-when she bit him.
-
-"You--you _beast_!" she wailed. "You spoiled everything. _Everything._
-Everything has been so carefully planned."
-
-"I know, I know," he soothed.
-
-"Oh," she quavered, and she fell to the floor again, sobbing.
-
-Clifton got up, surveyed her weeping figure, a mound of white on the
-floor. Well, he thought, at least this is a change for me. And he felt
-rather foolish about what he had done. If only it had been a man; he
-could reason with a man. He turned in disgust and walked from the
-medocenter. She would change. After all, nine years is a long time. No
-woman could cry nine years. He smiled a little. Fiery little thing,
-isn't she? he told himself as he started his tour of the ship.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-He didn't find her in the medocenter when he returned. The white gown
-was not there either. It was a long time before he found her lying atop
-one of the compartments in the sleep locker. She was still clad in the
-gown, a gaunt, spiritless figure, her eyes staring at the low ceiling.
-
-"Miss Lavester," he said, "I know it was a shock to wake up this side
-of Ostarpa, but believe me, I intended no harm. If only you knew the
-loneliness--" and he could not go on, remembering the emptiness of the
-days just past.
-
-She said nothing, only blinking her eyes, pale blue eyes in a white
-face.
-
-"If I'd known how upset you'd be, I'd never have awakened you," Clifton
-said bitterly. "If I could put you back to sleep now I would." Now
-her face turned toward his, eyes icy in a withering glance. She rose,
-a firm press of breast against the white gown as she slid off the
-compartment. Clifton's heart quickened. But she ignored him and walked
-away. She looks like Karen sleepwalking, he thought.
-
-The next day he found her in the stereo room, dressed in one of Karen's
-gowns from the clothes locker, a thin, pale blue dress that accented
-her small waist and blonde hair. She looked ever so much like Karen. He
-wondered where she had slept, if she had eaten.
-
-"Portia," he said, sitting in a nearby chair. She only sat, a still
-figure, staring ahead, her hair brushed back in a long sweep, glossy
-and smooth, and Clifton thought: My God, but she's a beautiful thing.
-
-"Portia," he repeated, "I want to talk to you." What could he do with
-this girl? Was there no way to break through to her?
-
-Portia gave him a hateful glance and rose. He watched her and his
-hunger was more than he could stand.
-
-"Please," he said desperately. "Don't leave."
-
-She turned at the doorway and looked at him coldly.
-
-"You don't know what it means to lose your wife and have no one to
-talk to and have to decide what to do." He looked down at his hands
-embarrassedly. Why was he finding it so hard to talk to her? He felt
-his face coloring. "I think I'd have gone mad if I hadn't awakened you.
-It wasn't a snap judgment, Portia. I just didn't pull your number out
-of a hat. You see--" He looked up. She wasn't there.
-
-He saw her in the hallway, her head down, contemplative and walking
-slowly, and catching up to her and walking beside her he explained,
-"Suppose I'd have an accident like Karen did? Then none of you would
-ever land on Ostarpa. Somebody had to be awakened, Portia. Can't you
-understand that?" She gave no hint she knew he was there.
-
-He watched her in the massage room, unable to take his eyes off her as
-the soft, flexible arms stroked her flesh, and he said softly, "You say
-I spoiled everything, but I'd like you to think about that. On Ostarpa
-you'd have to go to work right away, be given your duty number just
-like you had on Earth. On the ship you've got nine years to play with,
-nine years of carefree life. You can do what you want and nobody's
-going to say or do a thing to tell you to stop, have you thought of
-that?" The moving arms were silent and smooth and so was Portia.
-
-He followed her to the bath but could not bring himself to enter there.
-He stayed beyond the filmy curtain and talked to her. "Sure, I know it
-was a surprise, awakening you like that, and I know you had in mind
-waking on Ostarpa, but being on the ship, the two of us, with all our
-wants taken care of--it has its advantages."
-
-And in the bar, with her eyes averted, drinking with her, he
-explained, "Oh, I'll admit there are records to keep. But I missed a
-few days after Karen died. Taking the whole ten years into account,
-that won't make much difference. But suppose I became ill for a few
-days. Somebody's got to be on hand to see I get treatment at the
-medocenter. That's why you've got to come around, why you've got to
-start thinking about this thing."
-
-And finally, in the navigation room, he told her, "You can't go on
-like this. You've got to learn all about this ship. Why, if something
-happened to me, who'd awaken the sleepers? You will have to do that,
-Portia. You'd be the only one left. You've just got to be ready to take
-over, that's all there is to it. And don't think it's too hard. The
-ship does most of it. Automatic. Just a lever here, a button there.
-I'll teach you all about it. Even landing the ship. You won't find it
-hard, once you put your mind to it."
-
-Through it all she remained aloof and unspeaking, a beautiful, silent
-thing with two accusing orbs for eyes, a lovely mouth with generous
-lips much given to a look of disdain.
-
-Until one day.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-It was totally unexpected. Portia had taken over Karen's bedroom next
-to his, closing and locking the intervening door as if forever. He had
-gone to sleep in his room, with her still distant and uncommunicative
-in hers.
-
-He awakened to the smell of coffee and a cooking breakfast. He sat up
-quickly, wondering if Karen's death and the events that followed it had
-been a bad dream, and when he assured himself they had not, wondering
-if he had at last lost his mind.
-
-Clifton quickly dressed and entered the kitchen.
-
-Portia was there.
-
-She smiled at him.
-
-She said, "Good morning, Clifton." Just like Karen.
-
-He stood speechless, staring.
-
-"Breakfast is about ready."
-
-"Wh--what's come over you?" he said numbly, both pleased and
-dumbfounded, his eyes relishing the lovely figure in one of Karen's
-sheerest nightgowns.
-
-"You were right," she said, tossing her head to bring the blonde hair
-away from her face and smiling. Her teeth were every bit as even and
-white as Karen's. "I just realized it. As you said, there are nine
-years ahead of us. I might as well make the best of it."
-
-"I'm glad," he said warmly, and the memory of what she had been like
-during the days before was eclipsed by what she was now. "I was hoping
-you'd come around."
-
-"Come, sit down," she said, indicating the place set for him, the
-gleaming silver, the neat napkin, the steaming coffee in the cup.
-"Don't let it get cold."
-
-"Karen used to say that." And then he thought: That's a mistake;
-I mustn't mention Karen ever again. But Portia seemed not to have
-noticed. And she seemed so much like her now.
-
-"I got tired of eating by myself," Portia said, sitting opposite him
-at the table. And she stole a sly look as she said, "And I'm afraid I
-acted badly."
-
-"Not at all," Clifton said gallantly. "I understand how you felt. It's
-just taken a little time, that's all." He started eating, but his eyes
-were on her and the transformation of eyes that were no longer cold,
-lips that weren't scornful any more.
-
-"Pity the poor sleepers," she said, laughing. "They can't enjoy a
-breakfast like this."
-
-"Do you suppose," he said, endeavoring to keep the talk in the same
-vein, "that any might rise up when they smell that coffee?" He inhaled
-ecstatically. "Hmm. There's nothing like it."
-
-"I hope I never make it that strong." And she giggled.
-
-With a shock he found his knee touching hers. He drew away, wondering
-if it had been accidental. Later, when he tried to kiss her, she turned
-away, murmuring, "Not yet, Cliff. Give me time. It's so--so sudden."
-
-He obeyed, turned his attention to other things. He could afford to
-wait. After all, there were nine years. A day or so--what did it matter?
-
-It was more than a week before he managed to kiss her for the first
-time. And then it was nothing like Karen's kisses. But immediately he
-felt he was asking too much of Portia too soon. There'd be time for
-teaching.
-
-They lost themselves in the intricacies of the ship, covering its
-complete operation, the records that had to be kept, the functions of
-each section, the matter of awakening the sleepers--which, Clifton
-explained, was quite simple, since the medocenter did most of the work,
-but still demanded certain procedures and precautions and delicate
-adjustments. He even taught her how to use the communications system
-that would become operable within a few months of Ostarpa. In all, they
-spent a good two months studying together every facet of the ship.
-
-"It's so complicated," she said in an awed voice. She squeezed his hand
-she had taken to holding. "But you're an awfully good teacher, Cliff."
-
-"And you're the loveliest student I ever had," he said, squeezing back
-and drawing closer to kiss her.
-
-"Cliff!" she said, drawing away and giggling. "You're always joking.
-I'll bet I'm the only student you ever had."
-
-"Well," he said lamely, "I hate to admit it, but you are."
-
-And then they both laughed.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-At length they finished everything he could show her on the ship. Then
-he brought up what had been on his mind ever since the day he awakened
-her.
-
-"Portia," he said gravely, "I'm captain of this ship and as such I have
-invested in me the power to perform marriage."
-
-Portia laughed. "You're always saying things so seriously, Cliff.
-So--so pontifically. Is that the word?"
-
-"I'm serious, Portia."
-
-"I know." She laughed a little more, then straightened her face. "I
-didn't mean to offend you."
-
-"You're always laughing at me. Why?"
-
-"I don't mean to."
-
-"I want to marry you, Portia."
-
-"I know." And instantly her eyes were grave. "I've known for a long
-time."
-
-"I've wanted you since the day you first looked at me."
-
-"I've known that, too."
-
-"It was all I could do to--"
-
-"You've been more than kind, Cliff."
-
-"When, darling? When can I marry you?"
-
-She looked up. "Tomorrow?"
-
-His heart leaped. "Marry you tomorrow?"
-
-She nodded. "Tomorrow."
-
-Was there something odd in her look? He couldn't decide.
-
-When Clifton went to bed that night his heart sang. The years ahead no
-longer seemed appalling and interminable. How they'd spend them! The
-sewing room ... it could always be changed back into a nursery. Portia
-had shown no interest in sewing, so he'd just store Karen's stuff.
-Perhaps somebody would find use for it when they landed on Ostarpa. It
-wasn't unusual for captains and their wives to have a half dozen kids
-during transit.
-
-He went to sleep with the sound of children's feet echoing about the
-halls and corridors of the ship. And when he dreamed of the marriage it
-was, oddly, Karen he was marrying.
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-He awakened with a start. On this morning there was no welcome aroma of
-coffee. At first he thought perhaps he was too early. But it was time.
-Portia was probably so excited she was all off schedule.
-
-Clifton was careful on this morning. He took his bath, toweled himself
-until his skin tingled, used his deodorant sparingly, gave himself a
-close shave. The part in his hair was never straighter.
-
-Dressing himself in a clean, pressed suit, he strolled from his
-bedroom. Portia was not in the kitchen. He walked to her bedroom. The
-bed had been made. But no Portia.
-
-Where the devil had she gone?
-
-He started walking about the ship, searching first here and then there.
-Of course not in stereo. Not on this day. Massage? No. Bath? Not
-there. Tape? Same.
-
-She was nowhere to be found. Then he recalled the funny look in her
-face the previous night. It meant _something_.
-
-Suicide? Frantic now, he went to both waste chutes. Neither gave
-evidence of having been opened. Still....
-
-An hour later he returned, a bewildered and disconsolate man, to his
-office.
-
-Portia was there.
-
-With her was a man.
-
-He was George Hedstrom.
-
-Clifton could only sink back against the wall and look at the two of
-them, the Portia he had never seen so radiant, George, a dark, handsome
-fellow who wore a quizzical look. Clifton was shocked to see they were
-holding hands.
-
-"Captain," George said in a friendly way, rising his full six feet,
-"Portia tells me--"
-
-"I'm sorry, Cliff," Portia interrupted hastily. "George is my fiance.
-We were to be married on Ostarpa, but as long as you--"
-
-_Tomorrow, she had said_....
-
-The two figures blurred before him, the room reeled and Clifton
-clutched the doorway for support. Karen, Karen! I've been
-bewitched.... This girl--I thought she was you.... I should have
-known....
-
-"Let me help you."
-
-Clifton struck out at the dark head of hair, hit it somewhere.
-
-Karen, Karen! Can you hear me?
-
-He stumbled out of the room and down the corridor.
-
-Karen, Karen! Where are you?
-
-He found the ventral waste chute. He was in it, heard the door click
-behind him. Now they'd never get him out, never take him away from his
-Karen.
-
-The sides of the chute were closing in. It was hot. But it was cool
-where Karen was.
-
-"Wait, Karen!" he cried. And as he inched his way down the chute he
-hoped he wasn't too late, hoped she'd forgive him.
-
-There was the outer door. On the other side was coolness and Karen.
-Dear, beautiful, lovely Karen. The _real_ Karen.
-
-With a surge of joy he held to the smooth sides of the shaft and raised
-his foot.
-
-He plunged it down unerringly against the door. It burst open with a
-deadly whoosh of air.
-
-The door clicked closed.
-
-The chute was empty.
-
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-<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Death in Transit, by Jerry Sohl</p>
-<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
-at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
-are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
-country where you are located before using this eBook.
-</div>
-
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Death in Transit</p>
-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Jerry Sohl</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 21, 2022 [eBook #67457]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
-  <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH IN TRANSIT ***</div>
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-<h1>Death in Transit</h1>
-
-<h2>By JERRY SOHL</h2>
-
-<p>Illustrated by EMSH</p>
-
-<p><i>There was one, and only one, thing<br />
-Clifton could do. Even so, he made<br />
-the worst of 100 possible choices!</i></p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Infinity Science Fiction, June 1956.<br />
-Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br />
-the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
-  <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>Clifton stood at the bottom of the shaft, his face white, his eyes
-wide, his stance against the bulkhead that of a man who needed only a
-slight push to slump to the floor.</p>
-
-<p>"Karen," he murmured. "Karen."</p>
-
-<p>He had been standing there a long time.</p>
-
-<p>He was staring at his dead wife, a heap of broken bones and blood on
-the floor. But he was not seeing her&mdash;at least not as she was now. He
-was seeing her the way his mind kept bringing her back to him: the
-white evenness of her teeth when she smiled, the fury of her bright
-blue eyes when she was angry, the way she had uncomplainingly slept on
-the wrinkled sheets of the bed he had made when she had been ill ten
-years before, and the way they had laughed about that when she reminded
-him of it years later. He moved to stand erect, wondering why he should
-have thought about that at a time like this, and then, as he looked at
-her again and saw what the fall had done to her, he clenched his hands
-in anger.</p>
-
-<p>They had said it couldn't happen! But they had been wrong. Man's wisdom
-was not infinite after all. All the man-years of thought, all the
-endless whirring and clicking of the computers and calculators&mdash;all of
-it had not taken into account what might happen to Karen.</p>
-
-<p>His hands fell open. He knew that actually, they had never been wrong.
-If he had found her right away, he could have put her back together.
-He could have utilized the synthesizer for anything really bad, like a
-shattered bone. The needles of the organic analyzer would have told him
-what else he had to do.</p>
-
-<p>But Karen had been dead for hours when he found her. Too long. The
-damage was irreparable, permanent. She was beyond recall. He might
-conceivably have animated her muscles, her glands, got her blood to
-flowing again. But her brain would have remained a vacuous, inert
-thing. You had to get reconstruction going in a matter of minutes when
-the brain, the anatomy's most perishable component, was involved. And
-in some cases he had known, the memories were never fully restored.</p>
-
-<p>Why couldn't it have been a tumor? A deficiency disease? A nervous
-breakdown? Insanity.... There was nothing the medocenter couldn't
-handle. Its machines were right there on the ship, ready to be
-used&mdash;but Karen had to fall down the ventilator shaft, opening the door
-and walking into it as if it were her bedroom, and falling all the way
-down and breaking half the bones in her body.</p>
-
-<p>And he had found her too late. Hours too late.</p>
-
-<p>"Too late," he said, and he nodded his head in agreement. And then he
-was engulfed in sudden pity and remorse and a feeling of loss, as if
-she had snatched a vital part of him in her going. And hadn't she?
-Hadn't she taken her laughter with her, the laughter that brightened
-his days? And the things they had shared.</p>
-
-<p>He glared at her, suddenly angry that she should have done this to
-him, and he glared at the shaft and blew out his cheeks and clenched
-his hands again and roared a great cry that echoed deafeningly in the
-smallness of the shaft.</p>
-
-<p>And then he shouted obscenities at the ship and the stars and the
-hundred people who lay as if dead in neat rows in the sleep locker and
-he pounded the walls until blood from his hands left imprints there.</p>
-
-<p>But no one heard. There was no one to hear. Only the sleepers who
-lived their days with his years.</p>
-
-<p>"Why?" he shouted, while his tears fell. And he thought: I haven't
-cried since I was a kid. Then, saying her name again and again, he
-knelt by her side to feel the silkiness of her jet black hair.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>There had been no death aboard a Star Transit ship since the very
-beginning. From the first day of the Great Emigration more than a
-hundred years before, when the first captain and his wife stepped
-aboard to pilot the precious cargo of sleeping humans ten or more years
-across the vast stellar reaches to colonies on planets in a half dozen
-far-distant star systems, there had been no recorded death.</p>
-
-<p>But now there would always be Karen.</p>
-
-<p>He should have told them she walked in her sleep. But the Medical
-Examiners would have shrugged as they had with everything else he had
-told them. The medocenters would take care of it. You couldn't <i>cure</i>
-sleepwalking with the devices in the medocenter, but they would have
-taken care of anything that happened as a result&mdash;if he had reached
-her in time. It was unforeseen, this business of her walking into the
-shaft. No one was to blame. No one, that is, except himself.</p>
-
-<p>Clifton looked up from beside his wife to the circle of light at the
-top of the shaft. "All right," he called out, "I'm to blame, do you
-hear? I did it. She could be alive except for me."</p>
-
-<p>There was no answer to his self-indictment.</p>
-
-<p>"And where does it leave me?" he shouted bitterly. "I'm the one who has
-to live and I've got nine years to go. Nine years to Ostarpa and the
-small colony there. What am I supposed to do?"</p>
-
-<p>He never remembered later how long he stood in the shaft shouting
-until he was hoarse, only recalling that at one point the walls seemed
-to close in on him and the ship seemed filled with an oppressive
-strangeness, and he was clawing his way up the ladder to the top. And
-there were blurred images of walls and rooms as he ran about the ship,
-and he remembered his jerking open the liquor cabinet and the stupor
-that followed.</p>
-
-<p>It was days later when he sobered and, insulated by the intervening
-unreality, managed to dispose of her body in a waste chute.</p>
-
-<p>Then he moved to the office and saw that it was the 371st day and
-looked at the log to see that he had stopped making entries on the
-363rd day. He examined the other books. Karen's precise handwriting had
-recorded her final readings on that day, too. Now he would have to do
-her work as well as his own.</p>
-
-<p>Clifton sighed, sat at his desk and, in a steady hand, wrote in the log:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p><i>Karen rose in her sleep, walked to and fell down the right aft third
-level ventilating shaft and was killed. Reached her approximately
-three hours after the incident. She could not be saved.</i></p>
-
-<p class="ph1"><i>Clifton West, Captain</i></p></div>
-
-<p>Skipping to the 371st day, he wrote:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p><i>Sent Karen's body out the ventral waste chute.</i></p></div>
-
-<p>He sat studying the words, then added:</p>
-
-<div class="blockquot">
-<p><i>Am alone on the ship.</i></p></div>
-
-<p>Instantly he wished he had not written that, but was not moved to cross
-the words out. It was true enough. He was alone. Would be alone nine
-more years.</p>
-
-<p>Suppose something should happen to him? Who would land the ship? And
-what would happen to the sleepers?</p>
-
-<p>He did not want to think about it. The medocenter would take care
-of everything. He didn't walk in his sleep. His duty was to get the
-hundred humans through to Ostarpa and then they all would become part
-of the colony there, except of course he'd be ten years older than the
-sleepers upon awakening. He looked at the day gauge on the wall. Just
-3,332 days short of Ostarpa.</p>
-
-<p>Three thousand three hundred and thirty-two days without Karen! An
-eternity of talking to himself and listening only to the sound of his
-own feet as he walked about the ship. A lifetime for remembrance, just
-as he remembered now how eager they both had been to make the trip,
-how she had shared the rigorous training. It had been a chance of a
-lifetime: ten years of being together! Time to meditate, to ponder the
-problems of life, of all humanity, of each other. They had thought
-soberly of it as an opportunity to make something of themselves&mdash;write
-a great play, solve a great problem. But they had never got around to
-that. The first year had been only the sheer delight of each other's
-company. He wondered if it would have ever changed. How fast it had
-gone!</p>
-
-<p>And now it was over and the nine years ahead loomed like a dark tunnel,
-large and forbidding.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Clifton slammed the palms of his hands on the desk. Enough of that. He
-was captain of the ship and he had duties. He could not spend his time
-in the past. There were things to do. He must keep himself occupied. He
-must not think of her.</p>
-
-<p>But he did.</p>
-
-<p>Even though the days stretched into weeks he still found his steps
-faltering every time he walked past rooms where he had often looked for
-her. For one thing there was the stereo room where Karen loved to spend
-leisure hours. He never saw much in stereo, but she seemed to enjoy it.
-And there was the music taperoom, the massage parlor, the baths. She
-seemed to have a need of them. But all Clifton had ever needed was her.</p>
-
-<p>He passed the jammed clothes locker, filled with enough apparel to last
-her ten years. He could not force himself to open it, though Karen
-seldom had opened it herself. She had made most of her own clothes,
-taking the material out of the huge storage bins.</p>
-
-<p>He found himself one day in her sewing room, a room she had converted
-from a nursery, storing the nursery stuff until such a time as it was
-needed and installing her sewing machine and getting to work. They had
-joked about how, when they landed on Ostarpa, all the clothes in the
-locker would be still intact because she so enjoyed fashioning her own.
-Once he had asked her what was to become of them.</p>
-
-<p>"We'll start a dress shop, darling," Karen had said quickly as if she
-had already thought about it, which is the way she answered everything.
-"The sleeper women will want several changes right away."</p>
-
-<p>"You know," he replied, "I think I'll be your manager, set you up.
-Karen West, Ostarpa's great dress designer. You'll have lots of
-business and we'll make a fortune."</p>
-
-<p>"I'm not that good," she said, but her face glowed with joy.</p>
-
-<p>Even as he stood there he could hear the words as if they were said a
-moment ago and he felt as if he should at any moment hear the click of
-her heels across the floor, and when she'd enter the room, she'd say,
-"Clifton, what in the world are you doing here?"</p>
-
-<p>The Transit Service had been right. No man was an island. A man might
-be for a day, perhaps, or a week or even longer. But not for ten
-years. That's why the service had insisted a man and his wife, proven
-psychologically compatible, serve together as co-captains of each
-transit liner.</p>
-
-<p>So it wasn't right that he should spend the next nine years a lonely
-man. Karen was gone, but what about those hundred people in the sleep
-locker? He needed someone, a companion, someone to talk to, someone to
-take Karen's place. Not a woman, of course. That would not be right.
-Especially after Karen. There could be no other woman like Karen.
-Besides, suppose they didn't like each other?</p>
-
-<p>"No," he said, standing in the sewing room and shaking his head, "it
-must not be a woman."</p>
-
-<p>And then he brought himself back to reality. No sleeper had ever been
-awakened before the liner reached its destination. "And no sleeper is
-going to be awakened on this trip," he said firmly. He had the power
-to wake any or all of them in an emergency, but his own personal
-emergency hardly constituted grounds for that.</p>
-
-<p>But suppose something happens to me? he reminded himself again. Who's
-going to carry on?</p>
-
-<p>And then he set his lips close together, turned on his heel and left
-the sewing room. "Nothing," he said aloud, "is going to happen to you.
-That's why they put medocenters on these ships." And he went to the
-place and spent the afternoon being checked over.</p>
-
-<p>He found himself in perfect health. For some reason he was disappointed.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>The weeks passed slowly, but they did pass, and Clifton busied himself
-with exhaustive checks throughout the entire ship, interested himself
-in the stereos (they weren't so bad now that he had nothing else to
-do), music tapes (he weeded out the ones he didn't like), massages
-(he was pleased to discover they left him with a glow), books (funny
-how hard it was to read after the ease of stereo), mathematics (how
-much he'd forgotten), a few languages (German was still his hardest),
-moods of writing (he just did not have the knack), painting (he was
-always drawing machinery and wondering why)&mdash;and found the image of
-Karen's laughing blue eyes still there at the edge of his mind, though
-curiously distant, as if it were one of the stereos he had seen.</p>
-
-<p>Then the hunger started.</p>
-
-<p>He sat for long hours in the chill of the sleep locker and envied
-the sleepers there, row on row, all of them without a worry, without
-thought, trustful of him, confident he would get them through, none of
-them knowing Karen was dead and not caring, and he had an urge to wake
-them all and throw a furious party to end all parties.</p>
-
-<p>And sometimes he'd have a party there all by himself.</p>
-
-<p>And then he grew to hate them. When he did, he went to the medocenter
-and this was erased and he was made whole again.</p>
-
-<p>But the hunger got worse.</p>
-
-<p>"Karen, Karen!" And he finally wondered if it was really Karen he
-wanted. And the medocenter only made his hunger worse and he cursed the
-efficiency of it.</p>
-
-<p>Then one day he got out the file of the sleepers, went through it from
-Abelard, Johannes, to Yardley, Greta, and put the pictures in the
-stereo and saw what the sleepers looked like and wondered which of
-them would prove the most companionable. Which man, that is, for a
-woman ... well, it just would not be right to awaken a woman. It would
-not look right in the log, for one thing, and he was sure all he needed
-was another person to talk to and it might as well be a man. After all,
-man is a gregarious animal. If he had someone to talk to....</p>
-
-<p>He turned back through the file for Hedstrom, George, a pleasant
-looking fellow of thirty&mdash;which would make him five years Clifton's
-junior&mdash;and in passing he came upon the picture of Portia Lavester
-again. He slipped the picture in the stereo and spent a long time
-looking at it. Quite a girl. Blonde. Unlike Karen in that respect. And
-she wore her hair longer. Her eyes weren't as blue as Karen's. But her
-skin was darker. Sun? Karen didn't like the sun. It made her freckled.
-But this girl must have lived in it. The stereo was inadequate,
-however. It didn't tell how she laughed. <i>Did</i> she laugh? Was it
-pleasing?</p>
-
-<p>He put it down and looked at the record. Portia Lavester. Twenty years
-old. Five-feet-three. Weight 109. He looked at the picture again. The
-weight was well distributed.</p>
-
-<p>He shuffled the picture back in the pile, tried to concentrate on
-Hedstrom, George. A logical choice among the single men. Mechanical
-background. He peeked at the Lavester record again. The girl was a home
-economics expert. She'd do well on Ostarpa. Or on the ship.</p>
-
-<p>Clifton sighed and shoved the file away. Only then did he realize how
-much he had missed Karen's cooking. The ship's electronic cookery was
-all right, but it left much to be desired. It had no personal touch.</p>
-
-<p>But to get back to Hedstrom. How would the fellow act if he awakened
-him? Immediately he thought of the girl and wondered what she would be
-like.</p>
-
-<p>"Stop it!" he admonished himself. "She's much too young." And he
-started going through looking at the other single women. The girl
-Lavester was clearly the nicest. Again he studied her.</p>
-
-<p>And again he forced himself to go back to the man.</p>
-
-<p>Finally he decided to do nothing at present, left the office and
-started his rounds, determined to think of other things.</p>
-
-<p>Eventually he found himself in the sleep locker looking for number
-33, Portia Lavester's compartment. He saw it and discovered it was no
-different from number 57, the compartment of George Hedstrom. The same
-black oblong box with the ribbon of red plastic where it was sealed
-near the top. It would be easy to activate the rollers, move it out
-of line and out to the medocenter, rip off the plastic and charge the
-contents with life. He wiped away a few dust motes and found that to
-him the box suddenly seemed different from the others.</p>
-
-<p>He was sweating.</p>
-
-<p>Later in the tape room he listened to music and pondered the question.
-Suppose he awakened her and she proved to be anything but what he
-wanted? Sure, she was good looking, but what about her age? Her
-mannerisms? Would his fifteen years turn her against him? There were
-nine years left to Ostarpa; a lot could happen in nine years and she
-would eventually discover he was no ogre. She might even learn to love
-him. Why, she might even take Karen's place!</p>
-
-<p>He clicked off the music with a trembling hand, went to the bar, drew
-a double shot and ice.</p>
-
-<p>Karen, Karen! Why did it have to happen to you?</p>
-
-<p><i>Forgive me, darling, for what I am about to do.</i></p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Clifton watched the lard-like flesh become suffused with pink, saw the
-surge of color in the lips, the catch of breath and the resultant swell
-of breast. Then the eyelids flickered.</p>
-
-<p>A moment later Portia Lavester was staring at him, and even as she did
-so Clifton could see she did not understand what had happened. But when
-the vacant eyes came alive, the girl sat up, crossed her hands to her
-bare, hunched shoulders and looked around frantically.</p>
-
-<p>"Don't be frightened," Clifton said, smiling. "You're still on the
-ship. You've just been awakened."</p>
-
-<p>"Thanks," she said without gratitude, "but I wasn't frightened. I was
-looking for something to put on."</p>
-
-<p>"Oh." Clifton had forgotten about that. Now he blushed and opened a
-nearby drawer and withdrew a white gown. "Take this. It will have to do
-until I get you something else."</p>
-
-<p>She took it and held it to her nakedness, eying him coldly. He turned,
-heard her drop quietly to the floor. "Where are the others?" she asked,
-and he could hear the rustle of the gown as she put it around her. "And
-where can I pick up my clothes?"</p>
-
-<p>He turned to look at her, found her at the side of the room in front of
-its only mirror, inspecting her face and pushing her lush hair this way
-and that and grimacing. "How long ago did we land? What's Ostarpa like?"</p>
-
-<p>She was lovely and not unlike Karen in manner and it was going to be
-harder for him than he thought.</p>
-
-<p>"Was I the first or the last? Or was I in the middle? Just like me to
-be in the middle." She laughed a little and he was glad to hear her,
-though her laughter was a little lower in pitch than Karen's. And then
-her eyes found his in the mirror and they widened. She turned. "Why
-don't you say something? Is anything wrong?" Now she was frightened.</p>
-
-<p>She was very young and he was glad to hear her voice and he wanted to
-tell her so, but he knew she wouldn't understand. So he said only, "I
-want to talk to you."</p>
-
-<p>"What's happened?" Her eyes were panicky.</p>
-
-<p>"There are no others," he blurted out.</p>
-
-<p>"No others?" Her voice was shrill.</p>
-
-<p>He shook his head. "I awakened you because my wife died and I needed
-someone." It was blunt, but he wanted to be honest with her. "The
-others are still asleep out there."</p>
-
-<p>She stared with round eyes and a round, open mouth, and her hands fell
-away from her face and were lost when the gown's long sleeves fell over
-them.</p>
-
-<p>"I&mdash;I had to hear someone talk again," Clifton said haltingly. "I went
-through the file. I studied all the sleepers. I decided on you. I'm
-sorry if&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"How long?" she murmured, lips hardly moving.</p>
-
-<p>"Long?" he answered. "What do you mean?" And then he understood. "We're
-a little more than a year from Earth."</p>
-
-<p>Her moan startled and unnerved him. Her eyes closed and she slumped to
-the floor.</p>
-
-<p>When she did not move, he went to her, lifted her head. At once her
-eyelids fluttered and she saw him and then her face darkened and she
-lashed out with tiny fists, scratching and crying.</p>
-
-<p>"It's not as bad as all that!" he cried, half angry with her now,
-trying to stop her, clutching her flailing arms. He drew away quickly
-when she bit him.</p>
-
-<p>"You&mdash;you <i>beast</i>!" she wailed. "You spoiled everything. <i>Everything.</i>
-Everything has been so carefully planned."</p>
-
-<p>"I know, I know," he soothed.</p>
-
-<p>"Oh," she quavered, and she fell to the floor again, sobbing.</p>
-
-<p>Clifton got up, surveyed her weeping figure, a mound of white on the
-floor. Well, he thought, at least this is a change for me. And he felt
-rather foolish about what he had done. If only it had been a man; he
-could reason with a man. He turned in disgust and walked from the
-medocenter. She would change. After all, nine years is a long time. No
-woman could cry nine years. He smiled a little. Fiery little thing,
-isn't she? he told himself as he started his tour of the ship.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>He didn't find her in the medocenter when he returned. The white gown
-was not there either. It was a long time before he found her lying atop
-one of the compartments in the sleep locker. She was still clad in the
-gown, a gaunt, spiritless figure, her eyes staring at the low ceiling.</p>
-
-<p>"Miss Lavester," he said, "I know it was a shock to wake up this side
-of Ostarpa, but believe me, I intended no harm. If only you knew the
-loneliness&mdash;" and he could not go on, remembering the emptiness of the
-days just past.</p>
-
-<p>She said nothing, only blinking her eyes, pale blue eyes in a white
-face.</p>
-
-<p>"If I'd known how upset you'd be, I'd never have awakened you," Clifton
-said bitterly. "If I could put you back to sleep now I would." Now
-her face turned toward his, eyes icy in a withering glance. She rose,
-a firm press of breast against the white gown as she slid off the
-compartment. Clifton's heart quickened. But she ignored him and walked
-away. She looks like Karen sleepwalking, he thought.</p>
-
-<p>The next day he found her in the stereo room, dressed in one of Karen's
-gowns from the clothes locker, a thin, pale blue dress that accented
-her small waist and blonde hair. She looked ever so much like Karen. He
-wondered where she had slept, if she had eaten.</p>
-
-<p>"Portia," he said, sitting in a nearby chair. She only sat, a still
-figure, staring ahead, her hair brushed back in a long sweep, glossy
-and smooth, and Clifton thought: My God, but she's a beautiful thing.</p>
-
-<p>"Portia," he repeated, "I want to talk to you." What could he do with
-this girl? Was there no way to break through to her?</p>
-
-<p>Portia gave him a hateful glance and rose. He watched her and his
-hunger was more than he could stand.</p>
-
-<p>"Please," he said desperately. "Don't leave."</p>
-
-<p>She turned at the doorway and looked at him coldly.</p>
-
-<p>"You don't know what it means to lose your wife and have no one to
-talk to and have to decide what to do." He looked down at his hands
-embarrassedly. Why was he finding it so hard to talk to her? He felt
-his face coloring. "I think I'd have gone mad if I hadn't awakened you.
-It wasn't a snap judgment, Portia. I just didn't pull your number out
-of a hat. You see&mdash;" He looked up. She wasn't there.</p>
-
-<p>He saw her in the hallway, her head down, contemplative and walking
-slowly, and catching up to her and walking beside her he explained,
-"Suppose I'd have an accident like Karen did? Then none of you would
-ever land on Ostarpa. Somebody had to be awakened, Portia. Can't you
-understand that?" She gave no hint she knew he was there.</p>
-
-<p>He watched her in the massage room, unable to take his eyes off her as
-the soft, flexible arms stroked her flesh, and he said softly, "You say
-I spoiled everything, but I'd like you to think about that. On Ostarpa
-you'd have to go to work right away, be given your duty number just
-like you had on Earth. On the ship you've got nine years to play with,
-nine years of carefree life. You can do what you want and nobody's
-going to say or do a thing to tell you to stop, have you thought of
-that?" The moving arms were silent and smooth and so was Portia.</p>
-
-<p>He followed her to the bath but could not bring himself to enter there.
-He stayed beyond the filmy curtain and talked to her. "Sure, I know it
-was a surprise, awakening you like that, and I know you had in mind
-waking on Ostarpa, but being on the ship, the two of us, with all our
-wants taken care of&mdash;it has its advantages."</p>
-
-<p>And in the bar, with her eyes averted, drinking with her, he
-explained, "Oh, I'll admit there are records to keep. But I missed a
-few days after Karen died. Taking the whole ten years into account,
-that won't make much difference. But suppose I became ill for a few
-days. Somebody's got to be on hand to see I get treatment at the
-medocenter. That's why you've got to come around, why you've got to
-start thinking about this thing."</p>
-
-<p>And finally, in the navigation room, he told her, "You can't go on
-like this. You've got to learn all about this ship. Why, if something
-happened to me, who'd awaken the sleepers? You will have to do that,
-Portia. You'd be the only one left. You've just got to be ready to take
-over, that's all there is to it. And don't think it's too hard. The
-ship does most of it. Automatic. Just a lever here, a button there.
-I'll teach you all about it. Even landing the ship. You won't find it
-hard, once you put your mind to it."</p>
-
-<p>Through it all she remained aloof and unspeaking, a beautiful, silent
-thing with two accusing orbs for eyes, a lovely mouth with generous
-lips much given to a look of disdain.</p>
-
-<p>Until one day.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>It was totally unexpected. Portia had taken over Karen's bedroom next
-to his, closing and locking the intervening door as if forever. He had
-gone to sleep in his room, with her still distant and uncommunicative
-in hers.</p>
-
-<p>He awakened to the smell of coffee and a cooking breakfast. He sat up
-quickly, wondering if Karen's death and the events that followed it had
-been a bad dream, and when he assured himself they had not, wondering
-if he had at last lost his mind.</p>
-
-<p>Clifton quickly dressed and entered the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>Portia was there.</p>
-
-<p>She smiled at him.</p>
-
-<p>She said, "Good morning, Clifton." Just like Karen.</p>
-
-<p>He stood speechless, staring.</p>
-
-<p>"Breakfast is about ready."</p>
-
-<p>"Wh&mdash;what's come over you?" he said numbly, both pleased and
-dumbfounded, his eyes relishing the lovely figure in one of Karen's
-sheerest nightgowns.</p>
-
-<p>"You were right," she said, tossing her head to bring the blonde hair
-away from her face and smiling. Her teeth were every bit as even and
-white as Karen's. "I just realized it. As you said, there are nine
-years ahead of us. I might as well make the best of it."</p>
-
-<p>"I'm glad," he said warmly, and the memory of what she had been like
-during the days before was eclipsed by what she was now. "I was hoping
-you'd come around."</p>
-
-<p>"Come, sit down," she said, indicating the place set for him, the
-gleaming silver, the neat napkin, the steaming coffee in the cup.
-"Don't let it get cold."</p>
-
-<p>"Karen used to say that." And then he thought: That's a mistake;
-I mustn't mention Karen ever again. But Portia seemed not to have
-noticed. And she seemed so much like her now.</p>
-
-<p>"I got tired of eating by myself," Portia said, sitting opposite him
-at the table. And she stole a sly look as she said, "And I'm afraid I
-acted badly."</p>
-
-<p>"Not at all," Clifton said gallantly. "I understand how you felt. It's
-just taken a little time, that's all." He started eating, but his eyes
-were on her and the transformation of eyes that were no longer cold,
-lips that weren't scornful any more.</p>
-
-<p>"Pity the poor sleepers," she said, laughing. "They can't enjoy a
-breakfast like this."</p>
-
-<p>"Do you suppose," he said, endeavoring to keep the talk in the same
-vein, "that any might rise up when they smell that coffee?" He inhaled
-ecstatically. "Hmm. There's nothing like it."</p>
-
-<p>"I hope I never make it that strong." And she giggled.</p>
-
-<p>With a shock he found his knee touching hers. He drew away, wondering
-if it had been accidental. Later, when he tried to kiss her, she turned
-away, murmuring, "Not yet, Cliff. Give me time. It's so&mdash;so sudden."</p>
-
-<p>He obeyed, turned his attention to other things. He could afford to
-wait. After all, there were nine years. A day or so&mdash;what did it matter?</p>
-
-<p>It was more than a week before he managed to kiss her for the first
-time. And then it was nothing like Karen's kisses. But immediately he
-felt he was asking too much of Portia too soon. There'd be time for
-teaching.</p>
-
-<p>They lost themselves in the intricacies of the ship, covering its
-complete operation, the records that had to be kept, the functions of
-each section, the matter of awakening the sleepers&mdash;which, Clifton
-explained, was quite simple, since the medocenter did most of the work,
-but still demanded certain procedures and precautions and delicate
-adjustments. He even taught her how to use the communications system
-that would become operable within a few months of Ostarpa. In all, they
-spent a good two months studying together every facet of the ship.</p>
-
-<p>"It's so complicated," she said in an awed voice. She squeezed his hand
-she had taken to holding. "But you're an awfully good teacher, Cliff."</p>
-
-<p>"And you're the loveliest student I ever had," he said, squeezing back
-and drawing closer to kiss her.</p>
-
-<p>"Cliff!" she said, drawing away and giggling. "You're always joking.
-I'll bet I'm the only student you ever had."</p>
-
-<p>"Well," he said lamely, "I hate to admit it, but you are."</p>
-
-<p>And then they both laughed.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>At length they finished everything he could show her on the ship. Then
-he brought up what had been on his mind ever since the day he awakened
-her.</p>
-
-<p>"Portia," he said gravely, "I'm captain of this ship and as such I have
-invested in me the power to perform marriage."</p>
-
-<p>Portia laughed. "You're always saying things so seriously, Cliff.
-So&mdash;so pontifically. Is that the word?"</p>
-
-<p>"I'm serious, Portia."</p>
-
-<p>"I know." She laughed a little more, then straightened her face. "I
-didn't mean to offend you."</p>
-
-<p>"You're always laughing at me. Why?"</p>
-
-<p>"I don't mean to."</p>
-
-<p>"I want to marry you, Portia."</p>
-
-<p>"I know." And instantly her eyes were grave. "I've known for a long
-time."</p>
-
-<p>"I've wanted you since the day you first looked at me."</p>
-
-<p>"I've known that, too."</p>
-
-<p>"It was all I could do to&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"You've been more than kind, Cliff."</p>
-
-<p>"When, darling? When can I marry you?"</p>
-
-<p>She looked up. "Tomorrow?"</p>
-
-<p>His heart leaped. "Marry you tomorrow?"</p>
-
-<p>She nodded. "Tomorrow."</p>
-
-<p>Was there something odd in her look? He couldn't decide.</p>
-
-<p>When Clifton went to bed that night his heart sang. The years ahead no
-longer seemed appalling and interminable. How they'd spend them! The
-sewing room ... it could always be changed back into a nursery. Portia
-had shown no interest in sewing, so he'd just store Karen's stuff.
-Perhaps somebody would find use for it when they landed on Ostarpa. It
-wasn't unusual for captains and their wives to have a half dozen kids
-during transit.</p>
-
-<p>He went to sleep with the sound of children's feet echoing about the
-halls and corridors of the ship. And when he dreamed of the marriage it
-was, oddly, Karen he was marrying.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>He awakened with a start. On this morning there was no welcome aroma of
-coffee. At first he thought perhaps he was too early. But it was time.
-Portia was probably so excited she was all off schedule.</p>
-
-<p>Clifton was careful on this morning. He took his bath, toweled himself
-until his skin tingled, used his deodorant sparingly, gave himself a
-close shave. The part in his hair was never straighter.</p>
-
-<p>Dressing himself in a clean, pressed suit, he strolled from his
-bedroom. Portia was not in the kitchen. He walked to her bedroom. The
-bed had been made. But no Portia.</p>
-
-<p>Where the devil had she gone?</p>
-
-<p>He started walking about the ship, searching first here and then there.
-Of course not in stereo. Not on this day. Massage? No. Bath? Not
-there. Tape? Same.</p>
-
-<p>She was nowhere to be found. Then he recalled the funny look in her
-face the previous night. It meant <i>something</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Suicide? Frantic now, he went to both waste chutes. Neither gave
-evidence of having been opened. Still....</p>
-
-<p>An hour later he returned, a bewildered and disconsolate man, to his
-office.</p>
-
-<p>Portia was there.</p>
-
-<p>With her was a man.</p>
-
-<p>He was George Hedstrom.</p>
-
-<p>Clifton could only sink back against the wall and look at the two of
-them, the Portia he had never seen so radiant, George, a dark, handsome
-fellow who wore a quizzical look. Clifton was shocked to see they were
-holding hands.</p>
-
-<p>"Captain," George said in a friendly way, rising his full six feet,
-"Portia tells me&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"I'm sorry, Cliff," Portia interrupted hastily. "George is my fiance.
-We were to be married on Ostarpa, but as long as you&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p><i>Tomorrow, she had said</i>....</p>
-
-<p>The two figures blurred before him, the room reeled and Clifton
-clutched the doorway for support. Karen, Karen! I've been
-bewitched.... This girl&mdash;I thought she was you.... I should have
-known....</p>
-
-<p>"Let me help you."</p>
-
-<p>Clifton struck out at the dark head of hair, hit it somewhere.</p>
-
-<p>Karen, Karen! Can you hear me?</p>
-
-<p>He stumbled out of the room and down the corridor.</p>
-
-<p>Karen, Karen! Where are you?</p>
-
-<p>He found the ventral waste chute. He was in it, heard the door click
-behind him. Now they'd never get him out, never take him away from his
-Karen.</p>
-
-<p>The sides of the chute were closing in. It was hot. But it was cool
-where Karen was.</p>
-
-<p>"Wait, Karen!" he cried. And as he inched his way down the chute he
-hoped he wasn't too late, hoped she'd forgive him.</p>
-
-<p>There was the outer door. On the other side was coolness and Karen.
-Dear, beautiful, lovely Karen. The <i>real</i> Karen.</p>
-
-<p>With a surge of joy he held to the smooth sides of the shaft and raised
-his foot.</p>
-
-<p>He plunged it down unerringly against the door. It burst open with a
-deadly whoosh of air.</p>
-
-<p>The door clicked closed.</p>
-
-<p>The chute was empty.</p>
-
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